


Pet Hotel

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: CAT ALERT, Erik is a proud cat papa, Fluff, I'm sorry but I think this needs to be the first part of a series, Light Angst, Pets, Pre-Slash, fluff fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 07:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12338058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: Erik has to leave on business, but he can't just leave his new cat alone for a month.Enter Professor X's Pet Hotel.





	Pet Hotel

**Author's Note:**

> Idk man I needed fluff really bad

Professor X's Pet Hotel was a ridiculous name, Erik decided, as he pulled up in front of the large building. He could hear dogs barking from the back. The cat curled up in her carrier in the passenger seat hissed.

“I know, Brynhildr,” Erik sighed, “But they’ve got good reviews.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, then got out and circled the car to open the passenger side door. Brynhildr growled a little, but let Erik carefully bring out her carrier, and the bag of supplies he’d brought too. It was a big carrier, for a big cat; Erik thought she might be a Maine Coon mix, but she was far too big. Her fur was too short for a purebred, as well. But she was a majestic creature, despite the torn ear, the mange, and the crooked tail. She seemed to tolerate Erik, eating the food he gave her, allowing the special shampoo and medicine, even curling up on the couch when he sat there. He supposed it was because she liked being pampered. He’d even bought her a scratching post, which she had destroyed in two days.

His arms ached, carrying her in her unwieldy plastic carriage as well as the heavy bag. Luckily the door was automatic, and they entered the “hotel”.

Brynhildr immediately began to growl again, as the smell of other animals hit them both. Clean animals, and a scent of flowers hiding a bit of disinfectant. Erik frowned. The flower smell was quite… natural. Not harsh and chemical-tasting. Huh.

But anyway. He approached the front desk, at which sat a young woman in a yellow coat, chewing gum as she typed at a computer. She looked up as Erik entered, and smiled cheerfully.

“Hello!” she greeted him, and snapped her gum. “Here to check in?”

“Ah, yes.” Erik shifted his grip on Brynhildr’s carrier, his fingers slowly going numb. Maybe he should get her a harness and leash instead of a carrier that he couldn’t hold. “Actually, before I do--the site didn’t say and no one would tell me, do you do for longer than a month?”

The young woman answered, “Nope, not unless you pay an extra fee. I keep forgetting to ask Mr. McCoy to add that…” She frowned a little to herself, then shook her head and smiled again. “Sorry. What’s the cat’s name?”

“Brynhildr.”

“Brunhilde?”

Erik sighed heavily. “Close enough,” he ceded.

Brynhildr meowed grumpily.

“Also. She had mange. It’s mostly healed, though. Is that a problem?”

The young woman frowned again, uncertainly this time. “Uh, let me check with--” she began, but she was interrupted by a door opening and a man in a wheelchair coming out into the front area.

“Jubilee, have you seen--oh, hello!” the man said, and smiled at Erik. Erik blinked. He had never been one to like people’s smiles--he disliked everything about people on principle--but this man’s was… nice. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“No, I was just about to call you,” Jubilee assured him. “Brunhilde here had mange, are any of the quarantine rooms available?”

“The mites are dead,” Erik told them both, “She just needs the shampoo and the medicine.”

“How long has it been?” the man in the wheelchair asked, tilting his head to get a better look inside Brynhildr’s carrier. Her growling faded, and Erik tightened his grip as she shifted and the carrier wobbled.

“About a month,” he replied, then sighed and gave up, crouching to set the carrier down gently and opening the door. Brynhildr stayed inside the carrier.

“<Come on, little one,>” Erik murmured in German. “<You’re getting too heavy for me to carry.>”

Slowly, Brynhildr emerged, flicking her ears back and forth, her head turning slowly from side to side as she took in her surroundings (her swollen eyes had gone down quickly). Then she did something she had never done before; she turned and hopped into Erik’s lap, pressed against his chest and still looking around warily. She was as high as his shoulders in this position, her spine tickling Erik’s chin when he looked down at her, surprised.

“Oh my,” the man breathed. “She’s beautiful.”

“Only you would call a cat with mange beautiful, Charles,” Jubilee sighed.

Erik gently stroked Brynhildr’s side, where the mange hadn’t been as bad, and she relaxed slightly. “So may I leave her with you?” he asked calmly.

“Yes, I believe we have a quarantine room open,” Charles replied, slowly wheeling closer. Brynhildr pressed closer to Erik and Charles stopped. “Is she feral at all?”

“I don’t think so, but I don’t think she was a pet for longer than kittenhood,” Erik replied, and blinked as Brynhildr rubbed her head on his shoulder in a gesture that could’ve been affectionate or just trying to relieve some itching. Charles smiled slightly and Jubilee, who had stood to lean over the desk, made a little “awww!” noise. Erik gave Brynhildr a gentle scratch near the base of her crooked tail.

“What’s her name again?” Charles asked.

“Brynhildr,” Erik replied.

“Oh! Like the Valkyrie?”

Erik nodded, surprised. “Not many people know that,” he said cautiously.

Charles smiled at him again. “Not many people name their cats after ancient religious figures,” he countered.

“Touché.”

Brynhildr gave a low meow and rubbed her head on Erik again. He sighed. “<Almost time for another bath, hmm, little one?>” he asked her. “<Try not to savage whoever has the task of bathing you.>” Then he looked up at the humans and asked bluntly, “How much?”

~

Brynhildr liked her new name quite a lot, thank you very much. She liked how it rolled on her new human’s tongue. She did not like having it butchered into ‘Brunhilde’, but what can you do with these giant hairless kittens. Most mangled the Cat tongue on the daily anyway, how could they be expected to learn the languages of others of their species?

She did not like this place, either. It reminded her of kittenhood, of being kept in a cage. There were too many dogs, though there were huge cages with birds who looked tasty, and there were boxes with rodents in them. Maybe they would feed her those rodents.

She prowled at her human’s side, looking sideways at the cage-doors where dogs and cats pressed their noses, sniffing at her curiously. One dog started barking; Brynhildr hissed and hurriedly crossed to her human’s other side. The rolling human, the one who smelled of sunshine, said something in its strange, complicated language to her human; her human replied with a noise, one she had learned meant agreement. She kept close to her human, gazing suspiciously at the animals around her.

They came to a door, one that required one of those flat shiny things that she had often heard referred to as “keys”. Past the door was a room, small but serviceable, with a cave-bed, a sand-tray, and two bowls set far apart. The humans stopped in the doorway and spoke some more; Brynhildr stepped further into the room, sniffing and slinking along the wall towards the cave-bed.

It smelled funny, but then, all beds made by humans smelled funny. It was clean, though, she could tell that much. Then she moved on, to the sand-tray. It, too, was clean, and smelled fresh and unused. She quickly made use of it, marking the sand as her own. It was possible they would clean the tray soon, and she would have to mark it again, but that was fine.

Her human set down his bag and took out her toys. The human who smelled like sunshine made a noise that Brynhildr had learned was a noise of enjoyment, of happiness; apparently it was called a “laugh”. It was a quiet noise, but she still saw her human’s face turn a different color. They spoke some more, as Brynhildr sauntered over and batted at a toy mouse she had almost finished destroying. There were words she knew, but they weren’t strung together in any way that made sense. “Food” was one of them, and “bath”. She twitched her whiskers. Food was good, but baths were horrible. All that water,  _ ugh _ . But the thick liquid that turned into terrible-tasting foam, it calmed the itchiness. It was also helping her heal.

She supposed the “medicine” was as well, because her human gave it to her as regularly as he bathed her, but she did not like it. Not at all.

Then her human crouched down. She walked over to in front of him and sat, gazing into his face. He had a very sharp face, her human. Very different from the sunshine-smelling human. It made him look less like a kitten and more like an adult. And yet he was still all wrong, though she knew, she  _ knew _ , that he must have been a cat in a past life.

He said something in his language, the one only he spoke, and reached out his front paw to her, gently stroking her chest with one strangely elongated toe. She endured this for a moment, then lifted her own paw and batted his away. He did that thing with his face where he bared his teeth, but not at all in a threat-display. He seemed reluctant to stand, and reluctant to walk out. Brynhildr tried to follow, but he stopped and turned to push her back gently with his back paw. Her paws skidded a little on the cool concrete floor, and she stared, appalled, as he and the sunshine-smelling human left with a backward glance each, and closed the door.

Brynhildr hadn’t felt abandoned since her first humans locked her out of the house and left forever. She hadn’t mewled since she was a kitten.

But she was abandoned now, and she mewled softly, wishing her human would come back.

~

Erik found his target without trouble. Their information led him to Italy, and from there to Egypt. He took back what was his and left the dead body in the desert.

Then he went back to New York.

~

Maybe this place wasn’t so bad.

Brynhildr still hated the baths, but she had to admit, the humans here were much better at cleaning than hers. And the company wasn’t horrible. The dogs were, of course, and the birds were annoying and she wasn’t allowed to eat the rodents, but the other cats were alright. They respected her on the first day that she was allowed to mingle with them.

Not that she did much mingling. She liked the strange trees with platforms instead of branches, but most of them wouldn’t hold her. She gleefully shredded them, though, with her razor-claws, and, in a fit of misery, destroyed several of her toys. They were thoughtfully replaced by the sunshine-smelling human.

The sunshine-smelling human obviously loved all the animals, even though they seemed to change every day. He was one of the humans who washed Brynhildr, making that noise that was sort of like purring but changed in pitch a lot. Brynhildr thought “hum” might be the right name for it. She preferred when he did the washing, though she never enjoyed it.

She healed. The itchiness faded. Her fur grew back properly. Her skin stopped shedding. She almost forgot her human.

And then he came back.

~

Erik walked in and the first thing he noticed was that Jubilee, the young woman at the front desk, looked very tired. She wasn’t chewing gum, and the smile she mustered was very fake.

“Hello,” she said, “You’re here to pick up Brunhilde, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, and did not ask why she was so tired.

Jubilee picked up her deskphone and dialled a number. After a moment whoever it was picked up, and she said, “Hi, Charles? Mr. Lehnsherr is here for Brunhilde. Okay. Uh-huh, I’ll tell him. Thanks. Bye.” She hung up and managed the ghost of a real smile. “They just finished her bath. Miss Darkholme, the vet, she said Brunhilde’s healed up enough that she doesn’t need the medicine.”

“Oh, good,” Erik replied, relieved. He’d forgotten to get more. He still had shampoo, though, just in case.

It was only a few minutes before the door opened and Charles came out. He gave Jubilee a worried look; she stuck her tongue out at him, and he smiled a little. The smile grew as it turned on Erik.

“Hello again, Mr. Lehnsherr. Jean’s drying Brynhildr at the moment. Come along and we’ll meet them there.”

Erik followed Charles through the door and back into the boarding proper. They passed the birds; passed the smaller mammals like guinea pigs and gerbils and fancy rats; passed the kennels, to the quarantine rooms. They entered the one Brynhildr had inhabited for the three weeks Erik had been gone.

Erik frowned. “These aren’t her toys,” he said flatly.

Charles looked embarrassed. “She destroyed most of them,” he answered, almost apologetically. “So I replaced them. She doesn’t seem to mind, she plays with them just the same.”

Erik turned his frown on Charles, but the other did not quail. “Does that cost extra?” he asked, unable to keep a snide note from his tone.

“No,” Charles replied.

Erik’s frown became a startled expression. He was used to people trying to get as much money from him as they could. It was infuriating. But…

“I will, however, charge you twenty dollars for the custom cat tree that she tore up,” Charles added cheerfully, with a sunny smile.

Erik almost smiled. “She’s… destructive,” he agreed grudgingly, then bent to begin picking up the toys. Charles helped, and soon Brynhildr’s bag was packed again.

Just as Erik was about to ask Charles where his cat was, a furry bullet zoomed into the room and clawed its way up his leg and chest into his arms, purring so hard it vibrated. He staggered, then let out a bark of surprised laughter, as a freshly-washed, healthy-looking Brynhildr washed his hair briskly and purred. It was a broken sort of purr, a cat unused to such an activity, but it was recognizable. Erik resisted the urge to kiss her, since Charles was there and also a young ginger woman standing in the doorway. And it was silly to kiss a cat, no matter what anyone said.

Brynhildr settled in his arms, still purring. He smiled down at her.

“<I missed you too, kitten,>” he murmured. “<You’re looking much better. Have they been feeding you right?>” He scratched her neck gently and she washed his hand briskly, never pausing in her purring. “<I hope they have. Oof, you’re heavy.>” He knelt very carefully and picked up the Petsmart bag he’d left beside the one he’d brought her toys in. Inside was a cat-harness, in the biggest size they had, and a retractable leash. Brynhildr’s ears perked, and she stared as Erik held out the harness for her to sniff. She did so cautiously, but didn’t protest a bit as he put it on her and adjusted it.

“A little tighter,” Charles suggested suddenly, “You don’t want it too loose.”

Erik glanced at him, then nodded and tightened it just a little. Brynhildr put up with this with far more patience than he’d expected; and when he was done, she inspected the leash with interest. He clipped it on to her harness and stood, taking the bags with him. Brynhildr let out a little questioning “mrrt?” noise that Erik had no idea she was capable of. 

“Let’s see if this even works,” Erik said, and started walking to the door. Brynhildr followed immediately. Erik smiled slightly. What a good cat.

He paid at the desk, while Brynhildr twined around his legs, getting the leash tangled, and then it was time to go home.

“I’ll be leaving the country on business again in a month or so,” he heard himself say. “Will there be room for her?”

Charles, who was doing the checking out (Jubilee and the other young woman had gone back through a different door, Jubilee looking miserable and the other looking concerned), smiled at Erik. “Yes.”

“Will--” Erik cut himself off, and was horrified to find himself blushing a little. He cleared his throat, said a gruff “Thank you,” and set about untangling himself. Brynhildr made a grumpy noise but waited, and when they exited the building she did so with head and tail high and pleased.

~

Brynhildr liked her new name and her new human, thank you very much. And she especially liked the warmth that filled her, knowing that he would not abandon her. He would come back. She had faith in that. He would come back.

She curled up in his lap that night and purred and purred and purred.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments = Life, Love, and Happiness


End file.
